


Family Bonding Time

by Daniellecluck



Category: Moominvalley (Cartoon 2019), Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson, 楽しいムーミン一家 | Moomin (Anime 1990)
Genre: Gen, Good Parent Joxaren | The Joxter, I have never read moomin pls don't sue me, I sure love taking rando background characters and projecting on them how much I wanna be a dad, Mostly Fluff, cause I crave it, joxter meeting snufkin fic, or at least v minimal angst, this is g rated but like I guess someone unimportant gets hurt?, this is my one fanfic for the year
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-03-07 13:53:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18874519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daniellecluck/pseuds/Daniellecluck
Summary: Joxter finds out he has a kid, but like wtf is he supposed to do about that information?





	Family Bonding Time

Off in a far off valley lush and surrounded by mountains lies Moominvalley. In it can be found splendor, adventure, and nature beautiful beyond belief. It’s also near where a fellow who calls himself The Joxter could be found in this particular moment having a midlife crisis.

“I have a what?” Joxter stutters out hoping that maybe he misheard.

“A son, darling,” Mymble repeats herself before setting down the mojito she’s sipping on. “He’s probably like four, five now?”

Joxter thinks on that for a minute before needing to pull out both hands to count. “Mymble dear, I don’t think I’ve visited you for over a decade now.”

“Ah, around fifteen then I guess,” she answers and stretches her arms in the chair she’s sitting on. “I always mix those numbers up. Who can keep track of those things all the time really?” 

He nods in agreement, numbers are indeed hard, and paces back and forth around the room. His nose scrunches as he ponders. 

“Well then, should I go visit him?” He asks.

“Visit who?” Mymble asks as she stands up and picks up her glass to take to the kitchen.

“Our son,” Joxter reminds and follows after her.

“Oh right. I don’t know. I guess you could,” she says and places her cup in the sink.

“So,” he has to prompt.

“So?” She has to answer.

“So where’s he living at now a days?” Joxter adds realizing he’s getting nowhere without direct questions.

Mymble places a finger to her lip and takes her time going over to a cabinet drawer to pull out an old, yellow slip of paper.

“Here and there. You know like you, a little bit of every place, but this was the last address I had for him,” she says and hands over the sheet.

“Well,” Joxter starts after he takes it from her. “This won’t help me because I don’t understand words.”

“Oh yes, I’d forgotten.” She takes out a pen and chews the tip of the cap before remembering what she wants to draw and hastily scribbling down a crude map. “It’s right around this area. Tall blue house. Can’t miss it.”

Joxter studies the map, which is in reality just a napkin with some squiggles and hearts drawn on it, and nods understandingly. He doesn’t really understand, but sometimes it’s important to pretend.

* * *

Finding the place turns out to not actually be that hard. Just walk over a couple hills and down a path or two through a set of woods and there it is. And if one looks closely enough, the hearts on the napkin do actually lineup with where the hills stand. More or less.

 _Huh, who’d have thought._

Yet the closer he gets, the slower Joxter finds himself walking. He starts twirling his paws together and shredding the napkin map between them into tinier and tinier shreds with each step. By the time he reaches the tall blue house, just as Mymble had specified, he finds his legs will carry him no further and the napkin has all but disappeared. 

_Maybe I should rest for the day before I go inside anywhere. I did walk rather far. Maybe a nap is due._

And with that, Joxter finds himself turning 180 degrees walking deep back into the forest.

Or at least he would have gone deep back into the forest, had he been watching where he was going and not tripped over a fire pit and right onto a small, neatly pitched tent thus knocking it over. 

“Oof,” comes a voice from inside as the tent falls down around them.

As he personally manages to land on his feet, Joxter simply stands back and waits back for the person to emerge so he can make a proper apology. He wasn’t raised in a barn after all.

Or he would have made a decent apology had the boy that emerged not looked how he looked. Pale skin and a mess of light brown hair tied together with a pointed green hat and a shabby coat to match. Apart from the color scheme, the boy was almost a spitting image of himself.

“Do you normally knock down people's tents and then proceed stare at them? That's usually considered rather rude,” the boy tells him pointedly. 

“No not normally,” Joxter manages to force out. “At least not unless it seems like a fun idea.” He then adds thinking about how that could potentially be an interesting prank if the right subject presented itself.

“Well it’s not a very fun idea for me when it’s my tent,” the boy says as he starts to prop his structure back up thus turning his back to him. 

The more time he takes to study the kid, the more Joxter can see both himself and Mymble in him. Sure the proportions are off in some places. For starters Joxter can’t even spot where the kid's tail is hidden at. But the more he watches him, and the fact that the the kid’s living in a tent, throws any and all previous doubts he might have had out the window. 

“I actually came here to find you!” Joxter blurts out before he can stop himself. 

The boy stops what he’s doing and slowly turns around to face him.

“What an odd thing to say to a perfect stranger.”

“But we're not strangers! Or I guess we are. Or were? I'm Joxter, and I…” Joxter starts taking his hat off in a bow before the boy softly scoffs at him.

“And I'm Snufkin. There I suppose you're right now. We're no longer strangers. But if you'll excuse me…”

“Snufkin?” He says as it’s now his turn to scoff. He stands upright before continuing. “Not the name I would have picked but...”

“I think I'd like to reorganize my stuff…” Snufkin continues ignoring him to the best of his ability.

Joxter panics as this is going nowhere near how he’d planned. He then remembers how he saw a coloring book once with a parent in it. So he thinks he knows what he’s supposed to do now. 

“Snufkin. I think I'm your dad!” He says. Then in one swift motion, he bends down to Snufkin’s level and pulls him into a big hug. He pats him once, twice on the back with his right arm making sure to properly count both times.

Snufkin immediately freezes upon contact, arms at his side. He seems to have no immediate response to this. Nor does he loosen up upon being released from the hug. 

“I see,” he finally says after a long silence.

“Yes,” Joxter says back.

“So uh I’m supposing Mymble and you…?” Snufkin guesses. 

“Yes,” Joxter confirms. 

“Right. Good then,” Snufkin says as he takes a step back. “Well it's been nice talking to you. I'm afraid it's time for me to go. Goodnight!”

With that, Snufkin flees back into his tent and shuts the door behind him. Leaving no time for Joxter to point out it just passed high noon.

* * *

It’s midday, and the world’s at its busiest. Everyone is up and about running errands, visiting friends, and/or being productive. Everyone except The Joxter that is who’s currently lounging about taking a nap in a tree. Although Joxter himself would argue that in itself is productivity. In fact, he was just about to hiss how rude it was to disturb people at a couple passing by on a path underneath him. They’re being loud enough to wake him! Him of all people! That should be a feat in itself. Reluctantly opening one eye to peek down, his mood shifts when he notices one of the pair happens to be his son. 

“The beach is only four or five minutes on foot, but if you run fast I heard you can get there in two!” The first one, who is not his son so Joxter does not care much, says.

“Is that so?” Snufkin answers back. “I think I prefer to walk. The seashells aren’t going to go anywhere, Moomintroll.”

“Well, yeah, but racing can be fun…”

“You know what’s also fun?” Joxter says as he jumps down and lands in front of them. 

Moomintroll shrieks at this, leaping into Snufkin’s arms who, to his credit, catches him rather unphased by his father's sudden appearance. 

“Stop screaming, it’s only me.” Joxter chastises as Snufkin sets his friend down.

After getting a closer look, Moomintroll relaxes as well. 

“Hey wait a minute aren’t you the hobo that’s been sleeping on my parents’ couch for the last week?” He asks.

“Probably,” Snufkin responds candidly. 

Joxter chooses to ignore the (truthful he will admit) comment and goes on. “I heard you two talking about shells, and I wanted to let you know if you find a bunch of them and stick the pointy side up _just_ hidden under the sand, people step on them and get poked at the beach, and it’s pretty funny.”

“Isn’t that kind of mean?” Moomintroll pipes up.

“Yes, but it’s funny?” Joxter responds slightly annoyed. “Wouldn’t you agree Snufkin?”

“Snufkin, do you know my dad’s hobo friend?” Moomintroll asks his friend.

“I know of him,” Snufkin says flatly.

“What?” Moomintroll says taken slightly aback at his friend's cold tone.

“He’s kind of my dad.”

“Oh, uhm neat I guess! Hello Mr. Snufkin’s Dad, I’m Moomintroll.” The Moomin says and sticks out his hand in greeting. 

“Pleasure,” Joxter responds. Not exactly sure what he’s supposed to do with the Moomin’s hand, he just does nothing. “So Snufkin, about that shell thing. I was thinking we could...”

“I actually just remembered I have to, um take a bath.” Snufkin announces suddenly. “Goodbye, Joxter. Goodbye, Moomintroll.” He then takes off down a separate path before anyone can object.

“Hey, wait Snuf... oh. Okay,” Joxter concedes before realizing he’s now alone with his kid’s previously unknown friend. “So you uh… know Snufkin?”

“Yup!” Moomintroll affirms. 

“And you live around here?” Joxter presses.

“Yup!” Moomintroll nods.

This was getting too weird even for him. Joxter sighs.

“I think I'm going to go... do something else now," he says pointing to the general area behind him. “I think that'd be best.”

“Yup.”

* * *

And so continues The Joxter's stay in Moominvalley. Try as he might, Snufkin wants little to do with him. Moominpappa suggests maybe Snufkin just needs time alone. Now Joxter can certainly understand wanting to be alone. Been there done that. But Snufkin seems fine with _others’_ company. Just his is the problem. It’s a fairly stressful problem if he’s being honest with himself. He’s beginning to think maybe he should cut his losses short and travel onward. Perhaps he shall this afternoon, but he’s not entirely sure where to go this time. What is he in the mood for? He decides he needs to clear his mind first, and there’s really only one way to truly do that in distressing times. And that would be by harassing a local park keeper, of course. 

It isn’t hard to find one. With all the big red “X” signs they have up, which Joxter guesses probably say keep out or evil this way or something but it’s not like that’d stop him, their station is practically screaming to be located.

Quickly swatting down any and all signs he passes just for good measure, Joxter whistles to himself along the way. He knows some of the signs he’s tearing down are likely just street markers or directions, but one can never be too careful. Besides, it’s all a part of his elaborate trap. The more ruckus he creates, the easier it’ll be to lure his prey out. Once he’s created his signage path of destruction, he brushes several leaves and sticks over a net he’s set up to hide it properly. Now all that’s left to do is wait. He crouches behind a nearby bush eyes locked on, hoping his bait works.

“What are you doing?” He hears a familiar voice ask from behind his hiding spot.

Joxter’s tail sticks straight up in surprise, but he is otherwise proud of himself for managing to remain quiet. 

“Shh,” he tells his son before pulling the boy down by the sleeve with him. “I’ve laid a trap for the park keepers. You see, I’ve live wired a net over there, and torn down signs along the path. Sooner or later, one of them will follow the trail and step on it and then wham! Ha aha.”

He’s so giddy he almost misses the way Snufkin’s eyes widen in shock at him. Almost.

“What, can’t an old man have some fun?” He snides. 

“No, it’s not that,” Snufkin says before pulling out a large canteen full of water and smirking at him. “It’s just...don’t you think it’d be more effective if the keeper was wet first?”

Joxter has never been more proud of anyone in his entire life. He grins back and checks the coast to ensure they still have enough time to pull this off.

“Can you climb?” He asks indicating to the trees around them before sprinting up one without waiting for an answer.

“A little,” Snufkin calls up to him. He then tries to get a footing on some of the lower branches to pull himself up. 

“Here,” Joxter says as he notices this and lowers himself down to hold out his hand, “I’ll help.”

With great effort, he manages to pull Snufkin up with him and just in time too. As soon as they’re both up and settled, they spot the local park keeper jogging down the path collecting torn down signs. 

“I swear...these kids nowadays…” the keeper mumbles to himself.

Silently, the pair wait in the tree until just the right moment. Then Joxter nods once, and Snufkin lets loose all water he has drenching the park keeper within seconds. Joxter can hardly contain his howling laughter as the keeper stumbles backward onto the net and proceeds to shriek in terror as the electric current catches him.

“Haha, we got ‘im, let’s go!” Joxter yells and grabs his son who’s nearly fallen off the branch in a giggling fit next to him. 

Once far enough away that the shrieks are simply distant background ambience, Snufkin’s laughter dies down enough for him to talk. 

“Dad, that was fantastic. I don’t know why I never thought of that before!” He manages to get out.

Joxter’s heart swells and his eyes squint in glee as he gazes back on his son. 

Silence gathers around them as they both realize what was just said, and yet neither of them are willing to address it.

“Hey, have you ever gone fishing?” Snufkin asks changing the subject.

“I have eaten fish.” Joxter responds as if that properly answers the question.

“I don’t think that’s the same thing, but that’s actually what I was on my way to do earlier. There’s a small river nearby I could teach you…?” Snufkin offers. 

“I think I’d like that.” Joxter agrees. 

With that, the two walk off together toward the river. They keep their distance from each other, but remain close enough that anyone could tell they’re together, and that’s a start.

**Author's Note:**

> I gotta tumblr over [here](http://cgcoconutgun.tumblr.com)


End file.
